Embracing their Differences

I have two absolutely amazing little boys. One is 7 and one is 5. They are both blonde. They are both happy. They are both silly. I gave birth to them both. They are two years apart.

And that is where their similarities end.

My boys are like night and day. Personalities, likes, dislikes, fears, hopes, dreams, etc. All different. And that’s okay to say out loud.

I’m not afraid of differences. Not anymore. In the beginning yes. I’m human. And differences can be scary.

But time helped all that. They aren’t scary anymore. I’m not afraid to talk about them.

Talking about differences doesn’t mean I love one more than the other. Or think one is less than. Or feel negative about one. Those statements couldn’t be farther from the truth. Talking about them simply means my boy are uniquely different. And it’s okay to say that out loud.

When I was pregnant with Sawyer, I struggled to picture my new son looking any different than Cooper. Or acting any different. And yet, from the second they were born they were different. Each uniquely perfect in their own way.

When they were younger, the differences weren’t quite so noticeable.

But as they’ve aged, the differences got louder. Some days they scream at Jamie and I. One boy has a play date, a soccer game and a birthday party. The other boy wants to stay home and watch his trains. One is on the typical path. One is paving his own.

Some days, it feels like we are raising two children that couldn’t be more different. And finding the balance, that makes them both happy and successful, can feel hard.

But we do it. And we will continue to do it. And love every single moment of it. How lucky are we to be Cooper and Sawyer’s parents?

Cooper

Cooper prefers to nest on the floor. He would never choose a chair or couch if given the choice. And he likes to be right in the middle of a room or in a walkway. He rarely wants to be touched. He is so sensitive he will cry from a dirty look.

He is never without a pile of treasures. They go with him everywhere. From room to room. To the bathroom. To the car. To school. To bed. He arranges them and rearranges them. He studies them and loves them. They bring him comfort and joy. And if you take the time to look, he will gladly share them with you.

He lives for technology. He would have multiple Kindles 24 hours a day if we’d let him. He loves sound. He is always surrounded by noise. Some of it comes from him in the form of grunts, squeals and giggles. He is never silent. No words though. Not yet.

He always has dirty hands. A sticky face. He loves food and candy and puts everything in between in his mouth. We are constantly keeping him clean and telling him to spit it out. You think baby proofing for a toddler is hard….try for a sever year old. We have to still be very careful for small objects. Still.

He loves his grandparents more than anything. And I am his person. He greets me every morning as if he hasn’t seen me for days. Every single day is the best day of his life.

He is so, so, so smart. He knows his letters and we hope he will learn to read some day. He is learning to spell and communicate with a speech device. Traditional education didn’t work for him. Not in any way. He is not athletic. Nor does he have a desire to try. And that’s okay. He doesn’t have to be. And he hates being outside…most of the time. If he is…he is snuggled up in a big blanket.

He can’t ride a bike. He has never played a team sport. Or kicked a soccer ball or hit a baseball. He has never drew a picture. Or read a story.

His interests are frozen around age two or three. He loves Barney, Thomas and music. He doesn’t play with toys. He loves to have snacks with him at all times. Mostly, he appears to be oblivious to the world around him. But, when you least expect it, he will point out an airplane in the sky or an elephant on TV.

And, he hears everything.

He gets our attention by screaming. Or gently touching our face and showing us something he loves. He loves to be tickled and wrestled with.

He has the best laugh of anyone I’ve ever met. If he is sick he won’t always tell you. And he has an incredibly high pain tolerance.

He is social to an extent. He wants to be near people but rarely interact with them. And if you are lucky enough to be one of his people, consider yourself blessed. He is hard to get to know and people often get stressed when he doesn’t respond to questions or looks. My suggestion, just sit by him. Just sit near him. You don’t even have to talk. He will love it.

He loves routine and keeping things the same. He is highly behavioral and can’t be left alone for a second.The only consistent thing about his behaviors is that they are always changing.

He has no fear or sense of danger. And he loves water.

He is a complete joy. He is my son. He is Cooper. I worry constantly about it. I need him to be safe, cared for, happy and loved. I worry about his life after we are gone. I worry about his safety. It can consume me if I let it.

Sawyer

Sawyer is by far my more challenging child. He keeps me on my toes. Keeps me moving. Keeps me guessing. As I peek into the future I think the teenage years are going to be exhausting.

Sawyer is smart and athletic. He met every milestone early. He even potty trained himself at age two. He observed and absorbed everything we were teaching Cooper and flourished. He slept through the night from birth. He nursed for a year. Ate everything. Smiled. Crawled. Walked. Talked. And charmed the world around him.

He is a natural born leader. And very popular already.

He never stops talking. He asks these amazing questions all day long. Will I fall into the earth if I step into a hole? Why aren’t there dinosaurs anymore? Will my brother talk to me soon?

Sawyer wakes up crabby every single morning. He demands breakfasts, blankets, hugs and for me to sit right next to him. After 40 minutes of grumbling he will magically turn into his happy self.

He is an open book. I know every thought that goes through his head. And he has wide swings of emotions.

He loves to be snuggled and I swear would crawl back into my womb if I’d let him. He’s incredibly compassionate and loves his blankie, stuffies and toys. Disciplining him is hard. And getting him to sit for a time out is more work for mom and dad than it should be.

He wants to work at Jimmy Johns when he grows up and make sandwiches. If that doesn’t work out he will be a ninja and save the world.

He has a million friends. But my favorite thing about him is how he befriends kids that need a little extra help and support. It makes my heart so happy. He’s funny and silly. And absolutely social. He struggles to play alone and wants constant interaction.

He loves baseball, soccer and every other sport you can think of. He will start kindergarten in the fall. He has followed the traditional path in every way.

He loves Spider Man, Legos and Nerf Guns. He hustles me for toys constantly which drives his dad crazy. He LOVES stuff. The more things the better. He understands the concept of money and wants lots of it. And if you drop it in our home…it is now his.

He lives to be outside riding biking, building forts, fishing, or being with dad. He is very busy. Always moving. And loves sleeping with mom more than anything in the whole world. He tells me he is going to marry me and I am his favorite girlfriend.

His life hasn’t always been easy. I truly believe siblings to special needs kids are amazing. He knows his brother is different. He has left events early. He has missed out on many things. He has seen struggles and mommy cry. And I can say with certainty that he will love his brother more than anything.

He is my superhero. He has allowed me to experience every milestone that a mother should. And for that I am forever thankful.

He is my son. He is Sawyer. And an absolute joy.

Both of my boys are uniquely amazing and I am so blessed to be their mom. Differences aren’t bad. They shouldn’t be scary. Simply put, they are just differences. They keep life interesting.

Like I always say, an autism diagnosis isn’t a tragedy. It isn’t the end. It’s the beginning of a whole new world.

Finding Cooper’s Voice is a safe, humorous, caring and honest place where you can celebrate the unique challenges of parenting a special needs child. Because you’re never alone in the struggles you face. And once you find your people, your allies, your village….all the challenges and struggles will seem just a little bit easier. Welcome to our journey. You can also follow us on Facebook and subscribe to our newsletter.